


Meet the Riders

by BeezandBitches



Series: Kiss the Human Girl [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anathema meets Pollution’s family, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Lesbian Anathema, Meeting the Family, awkward family dinner, imagine an episode of a shitty sitcom but that’s this, panic!!, so much crack, sort of a sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-05 16:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20491856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeezandBitches/pseuds/BeezandBitches
Summary: Anathema is going to formally meet Pollution’s “family”, also known as the other Riders of the Apocalypse.Pollution’s nervous that they’ll make a fool of themselves and scare Anathema off. The others are having quite the time prepping before the lovers arrive.Death just needs a drink.





	1. We Got This, Right?

**Author's Note:**

> BOOM! A sequel! I’m hyped up on two seasons of Will and Grace so I hope y’all can see the wonderful comedic inspiration.
> 
> If you haven’t read the first part “Anathema Takes One For The Team” please do. This can be enjoyed without it but there’s little references here and there. 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @BeezandBitches for tiny sneak peaks as this updates. Leave some love down below and have a wonderful day!

There comes a time in every couple’s relationship when you bite the bullet and meet the family. You’ve been dating long enough where it just seems right to know your partner’s relatives. Sometimes things go really well, sometimes not. It all depends on a number of factors not only from the couple in question, but from each and every member of the family present. In this case, everyone involved had technically met before. Except, they met while the visiting-partner was trying to stop the family in question from ending the world. So, it wasn’t the best first impression.

Pollution was pacing around in the living room of Anathema’s cottage on the phone with War. Tonight was the night. The other riders were going to get to meet their little trash bastard’s first girlfriend. Firsts were a big thing for anyone, but it was especially big for beings who were older than any living human. Pollution being so much younger than the others gave them the honor of being the final first. This wasn’t just their first girlfriend either, it was their first kiss, their first love. Their first everything. So tonight had to go perfectly. They couldn’t afford for it to go any other way.

“How’s dinner looking?” Pollution asked War who had the phone on speaker and was working in the kitchen. She currently had her hands full with a hefty piece of beef that needed tending too. The commercial meat industry may have been ruining the planet with their gigantic carbon footprint but  _ damn  _ if Anathema didn’t love shredded beef. She was Latinx after all. Pollution made sure to tell them that.

“It’s coming along, don’t worry.” War assured them. “Raven stepped out to pick up more limes.”

“Text him and tell him to get a trash can too.” They said.

“What? Why?” She asked.

“I can’t let the love of my life see us chuck any trash out the living room window at passing cars!”

“But that’s so much fun!” War protested.

“I know, but not tonight! We can chuck the whole can tomorrow.” They insisted. “She’s into things being clean. Which, gross, but sacrifices have to be made sometimes.”

“You’re so soft for her, it’s a little sickening.” She chuckled. “By the way, Wyn made it in time. Say hi, Wyn!” She yelled over to Pestilence who sat with Death at the kitchen table playing ‘Go Fish’.

“Hi sprout!” Pestilence called out. Little nicknames like that were going to be things Anathema would tease Pollution for, just from how cute it was.

“Please, please,  _ please  _ promise me tonight will be normal.” Pollution said, gripping their phone tight as their eyes flashed toward Anathema’s bedroom door. She had said she just needed a few more minutes to finish getting ready, so Pollution waited for her in the living room. “This is  _ big _ , Carm.”

“You act like we don’t know that.” She rolled her eyes. “Everything’ll go fine, Chalks. We’ll talk, we’ll eat, we’ll schmooze, we’ll go home happy. Easy as pie.”

“Last time Anathema saw you, you were bleeding mystery blood out of your eyes and head.” Pollution reminded her. Their full power forms were rather funky. “Not to mention Raven’s razor-sharp teeth, and oh yeah, Grim is a  _ skeleton. _ ”

“And you were leaking crude oil literally everywhere but she still kisses you.”

“Touché.”

“Don’t worry, ok?” War said. “We’ll behave.”

“Thank you.” The click of Anathema’s bedroom door rang through Pollution’s ears. “I’ll see you in awhile.” And without another word, they hung up. “You ready A-?” Their question fell short as they caught a glimpse of the gorgeous witch known as Anathema Device. She wore her favorite black, lace, long-sleeve blouse and ankle-length skirt that really shouted out that she studied the occult. Green and vibrant but in a gothic sort of way. The waistband of the skirt was wrapped with a silk bow and adorned with an emerald pendant that doubled as a good luck charm and came with a set of matching earrings. Her hair fell fully down, no half-done top bun tonight, curly and cute as it always was. Her normal thick-rimmed black circle glasses were replaced with an identical thin-rimmed gold pair that complimented her wardrobe.

“Do I look alright?” Anathema asked, giving Pollution a little twirl. They practically had heart eyes when looking at her. “Didn’t wanna over-do it..”

“You look like Persephone,” Pollution said as they walked over to her, snaking their arms tenderly around her waist and pulling her close. It would leave some stains on her hips, but Anathema didn’t care. “here to tempt me into eating the fruit of the underworld and teach me how to recycle.” They planted dingy kisses on her smiling lips and cheeks. They tickled her skin with faint yet doting bits of affection.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” Anathema giggled. “You look as handsome as ever.” She twirled a few strands of Pollution’s messy white hair around her fingers, leading them into another quick kiss.

“Thank you, my sweet witch.” Pollution almost wanted to forget about family dinner and stay there with her. But, they couldn’t do that. No matter how much the urge burned. “Ready to go?” 

“Yep. I hope your family likes me..” She said. “I know it’ll be a little awkward but, all and all, I’m excited to meet them.”

“They’ll love you, I know it. I just hope they don’t scare you.” They chuckled nervously. “They’re very colorful. But, I told them to behave.”

“Of course they’re colorful. You color coordinate everything as a group.” Anathema joked. “I’m sure they’re lovely, Chalky. C’mon now, let’s not leave them waiting.”

———

While Pollution was busy worrying about the possibility that their family was going to ruin their first relationship by being fucking weird, the other horsepeople were doing their best to prep for them and their witch’s arrival.

“Ok, the meat’s doing good in the oven,” War pointed to the stove as she finished cleaning up part of the kitchen and throwing all bits of trash out the window. She had forgotten their new trash can was sitting right there.

“We’ve got pissy social martinis prepped and ready.” Famine said as he shook a cocktail mixer and poured its contents into some fine glasses before topping them with an olive each.

“The room is cleaned.. enough.” Pestilence said as he covered the stained loveseat that normally was Pollution’s lounging spot with a large decorative blanket that he had picked up from a Mexican flea market. He was a little disappointed there wasn’t any actual fleas for sale, but they did have great blown-glass pieces and fantastic whiskey.

“THE PHOTO ALBUMS ARE ON THE COFFEE TABLE.” Death put down a stack of old, dusty photo albums on the living room table, wiping the dust off slightly. Perfect place to start some embarrassing stories about Pollution. “EVERYTHING ELSE IN ORDER?”

“Should be.” War said as she walked over to them. “Everything looks good to me. We got this.” She said, full confidence in both herself and the others.

But, you know that feeling when everything’s going perfectly smooth, and you feel like you’ve forgotten something, but you’re just not sure what, and start to panic?

Yeah. That’s War right now.

“Wait..” Her face, in an instant, was filled with worry. “...We do got this, right?” She turned to Famine and Pestilence, then back to Death, then repeat. 

“Of course we do, Carm. Why wouldn’t we?” Famine said as he and Pestilence made their way over. “The whole set up is perfect. We’re ready.”

“I mean don’t get me wrong guys, but we haven’t done  _ this, _ ” She motioned to the whole shebang. “in a long time. And even then, we never had to introduce ourselves as, well,  _ ourselves _ .”

“You said this girl was at Armageddon, didn’t you?” Pestilence asked. “She knows what she’s getting into.”

“Well, I mean,  _ yeah,  _ but..” Famine said, the gears in his head turning as he walked to War’s side. “This  _ is _ the first time we can plainly talk about being us, and not have to make up some stupid stories. What if it’s a little much? I mean regardless she’s still just a human.”

“Right?” War’s voice broke as she was starting to shift into panic mode. “And if we ruin this for Chalks-“

“CARMINE, BREATHE.” Death said as they put their bony hands on her shoulders. “EVERYTHING WILL GO SMOOTHLY.”

“But what if it  _ doesn’t? _ ” She argued. “What if it doesn’t, Grim? We can’t ruin this for them!”

“What if..” Famine muttered under his breath, the swirl of doubt growing larger in his mind, only for his eyes to go wide with realization. “Oh lord what if we overdid the lime on the meat.” He practically ran over to the oven. “Carmine did you taste it before you put it in?”

“I thought you can’t eat raw beef!”

“Not with that attitude.” Pestilence said as he watched War rush over to Famine’s side. Death sighed and shook their head. Why does no one ever fucking listen?

Famine was shuffling through the drawer to grab a fork for him and War to sample the meat. Just enough to see if it’s delicious.

“Pull out the meat and we’ll taste-“ The sounds of the oven opening, a hiss of pain, a very loud  _ ‘Fuck!’  _ being thrown into the air, and the unmistakable noise of glass crashing to the floor, as well as the following wet  _ ‘shlap!’  _ of a big chunk of beef rang through Famine’s ears. Now he was too afraid to turn around and look at the damage. “Carmine.”

“Raven.”

“Did you try to grab the dish without oven mitts?”

“..Perhaps.”

Famine slammed his head against the kitchen cabinets. Repeatedly.

“OH, WE’LL NEED THOSE MARTINIS MUCH SOONER THAN ANTICIPATED.” Death shook their head while they watched the train wreck unfolding before them.

“I’ll get the broom-“ War said as she leaned into a sprint, only to stop three steps in. “Fuck, we don’t have a broom.” 

“Forget the broom, what about dinner?!” Famine exclaimed as he motioned to the new-born sized piece of beef on the ground. “We don’t have enough time to make another! That took two hours to marinate, they’ll be here in less than an hour!”

“Why don’t you miracle it?” Pestilence asked.

“Every time we’ve tried that with food it just tastes like- like nothing!” Famine explained.

“Or like blood. Usually blood whenever I do it.” War said. “And Wyn, we love you, but you’re going to give this thing E. Coli.” 

“Understood. So what’s the game plan?” He asked. 

They clearly had no plan, aside from ‘scream’ and ‘buy broom’. War ran her now-blistering hands through her hair and hissed, releasing a whole lot of air that was trapped in her chest. Famine began looking through the fridge for some semblance of what to make instead. He created Pinterest for the soul purpose of showing people tantalizing recipes they’d never  _ actually _ make, so he’d better come up with something fast. They had a little over half an hour.

“I got it!” He said as he rummaged through the contents of the fridge and pulled out mushrooms and chicken breasts and butter. “I’ll make chicken marsala. Carmine, go to the store and pick up a broom and a big bottle of marsala wine. Grim, can you put some pasta to boil? Wyn, your rats can have the meat.”

“Oh, they’ll love it! Especially Stewart.” Pestilence chimed as he collected the meat to take to the guest room.

It was going to be a long half hour. Then the real fun was to start.

_ ——— _


	2. Cooking Up Some Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You ever try to find marsala wine at a grocery store?

War parked her bike lopsided in a car spot as she hurried into the closest grocery store, which was still a good ten minutes away from the apartment. Marsala wine and a broom! Two simple items. Shouldn’t be hard to find them. She only had a few minutes so she had to be quick. The drive there plus the drive back- All the numbers were running through her mind as fast as her legs were carrying her.

The broom was easy. Everyone knows what a broom looks like. The real kicker was the marsala wine. 

What the fuck even  _ is  _ that? 

Ok, ok, don’t panic. Use your brain, Carmine. It’s a wine, right? Check the wine aisle first. 

War sprinted to the wine aisle, checking the Italian imports specifically. She may not know a lot about cooking but she knew for a fact Marsala was in Italy. She had been so busy during the Punic Wars, how could she forget? 

She quickly checked the labels on each wine. 

Not it, not it, not it! 

Why was this damn wine so hard to find?

“Fuck this..” War grumbled and tossed a bottle over her shoulder. It would hit a woman’s basket and shatter, ruining her outfit. Then she’d assumed another woman standing near her had thrown it, only for them to start a fist fight right there in the aisle. War would’ve sat and recorded it if she had the time.

War then sprinted to the next possible location, the vinegar aisle. She remembered once on the Food Network that there’s ‘cooking wine’ which is completely different from drinking wine, for  _ some _ reason. Either way, she went to look. 

She hadn’t a clue what the bottle would even look like, so she spent a good two minutes skimming the price tags trying to find anything that even remotely read “marsala wine”, all while bouncing both her leg and the broom with enough force that it could ruin the bristles before she even bought it.

“Where the  _ fuck  _ is the marsala wine?!” Her voice carried through the whole store, like a battlecry over the horizon. 

A very frightened employee, God bless their sweet soul, walked up to War. 

“C-Can I help you, m-ma’am?” They stammered, catching a glimpse of the rage and batshit crazy from the corner of War’s stare. At the moment her eyes were locked dead ahead, but when she turned her head to look at them, they could swear they heard a bone snap.

“I’m looking for marsala wine.” Her voice didn’t carry any anger at them specifically. She may be the manifestation of humanity’s rage at one another, but she wasn’t an asshole to customer service workers. That didn’t stop the poor worker from nearly buckling under her the moment she spoke.

“I-It’s in the next aisle, m-ma’am. Next t-to the m-m-marinades.” She said nothing in those few seconds, and it made the poor employee pray for safety.

“Oh, thanks.” War hurried past them, and they knew then and there that God was real.

Sure enough, the marsala wine was sitting there, plain as ever. 

War swiped the biggest bottle she could find and slammed it down at the self checkout because she didn’t have time to wait for a shaking check-out employee to fiddle with the barcode scanner.

The roar of her bike getting farther and farther away made everyone inside the store release the breath they’d been holding for a solid 4 minutes.

————

“Catch!” War shouted, slamming open the front door as she tossed the bottle of marsala wine to Famine, who was doing his damned best to get a properly cooked chicken marsala set and ready by the time Pollution and Anathema got there. 

He luckily caught the bottle, so it didn’t join the still sitting glass on the floor. 

“Quick, get the shards cleaned up.” Famine said as he poured a definitely unhealthy amount of marsala wine into the pan with the chicken, letting it catch on fire for both aesthetics and for flavor. It singed edge of a cabinet from the heat alone.

“DON’T BURN DOWN THE APARTMENT.” Death called out, helping Pestilence set the table. 

“Not yet at least!” War said as she picked up the pan of glass and looked for the trash can, which would be handy now if she knew where they put the damn thing. So, she just threw it out the living room window, like they did so in this  _ damn _ house.

As she was walking back, she heard a faint  _ ‘squeak squeak’ _ come from the bar island. War’s blue eyes roamed with the speed of a frozen snail over to the noise’ origin, hoping it was just her imagination. She wouldn’t be so lucky, as Pestilence’s pet rats had found their way into the booze. 

————

“Ok, ok, so Carmine’s favorite movie is..?” Anathema asked. Currently her arms were wrapped gingerly around Pollution’s waist as the two of them drove down the road on the back of Pollution’s bike. As much as Anathema didn’t like the thought of heavy gas emission in the air, she had to admit clinging to Pollution’s waist while they drove just a little too fast was fun. She was asking them questions about their family just in case they ran out of things to talk about.

“ _ ‘Kick-Ass’ _ . But if you really want her to talk for hours, mention  _ ‘Legally Blonde’ _ .” Pollution said. 

“And Raven’s good at cooking and.. powerpoint presentations?”

“Yes, but he can’t pick fonts to save his life. Also, he won’t admit it, but he’s really good at interior design.”

“What about Grim? and Wyn? Also is Wyn short for anything? I don’t wanna go in there being  _ too  _ informal, you know?”

“I know, but you don’t have to memorize all of this, Ana.”

“Yeah, I know. Buuuut,” She kissed their cheek, nearly making them swerve in the process. “I just wanna be prepared.”

“Trust me, the conversation can’t get dull.” Pollution shook their head, trying to keep their eyes on the road. “Carmine has no idea how to shut up. Plus, they’ll probably want to tell embarrassing stories about me.”

“Ooh, how fun~.” Anathema teased. “Like what, the time you got your head stuck in a recycling can?”

“How did you know about that?” That got a good giggle out of her. Any giggle from Anathema was enough to make Pollution grin.

“Just promise me to help keep the conversation rolling, ok?” 

“If you’re struggling, I’ll ask Wyn to tell you about his rats. He loves those things.” 

————

“Wyn!!” War shrieked. “Control your pets!” 

Pestilence shot up, stumbling with a plate in the process, only for Death to catch it as he ran to stop his five rodents from taking a bath in their social-hour cocktails.

“No, no, out of there!” He scolded as he grabbed Stewart and Rhubella from the rims of two glasses. Buddy was currently tipping over a glass, spilling a drink all over the bar. Now the whole place was gonna smell like gin! “Jenner, Rascal, don’t you dare!” His shouting was ignored by two rats who skittered across the wetbar’s counter in an attempts to catch the olives which rolled out of the glass that had been spilled.

“Watch it!” War warned as she ran over and tried to juke the two runaways into running into the dustpan, only for them to hop off it and  _ into _ her hair.

Now, any normal person would scream. Probably panic a little bit. Rip at their hair to try and get them out. 

But not War.

War instead froze, completely still, shivering slightly from the little feet running all over her damn head and shoulders and the squeaks she could clearly hear in her ears.

The room was almost completely silent, if not for the sizzle of chicken and wine-sauce that Famine was trying to keep his attention on, despite the trainwreck a mere 10-ft in front of him. 

Pestilence opened his mouth to say something, most likely an apology for his pets terrible behavior, but his old friend simply shot him a stare that, if looks could kill, would’ve definitely done the job.

“Get them.” She said. Her voice was like an icy lake. Ready to shatter at any moment. “Get them  _ now. _ ” 

“ALLOW ME.” Death sighed as they came over and plucked at her hair, producing two squirmy rats and leaving War with a literal rat’s nest on her head. They handed them over to Pestilence, who held all five rats in his arms, quietly scolding them for their actions as he took them back to the guest room.

War finally unhinged and ran her hands through her hair, miracling it back to normal. She shuddered, the ghostly wet little paws of rats still fresh on her skin.

“I am.. so tired.” She said as she tugged at her hair a bit. “So, so tired.”

“WELL BE ON YOUR TOES.” Death waved a single bony finger at the mess on the wetbar only for it to be clean in an instant. No new drinks poured yet, as they would’ve most likely taste like death. 

The faint rumble of a familiar motorcycle coming from the still-open living room window sent a wave of anxiety into the air of apartment 66B.

“THEY’RE HERE.” 


	3. Dinner for Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the party to really start.

The announcement of their guests arrival sent everyone in apartment 66B into full blown anxiety-induced panic. But not the kind of panic that would end with a fire burning a hole through to the ground floor. No, this anxiety was a little more quiet. Too quiet. The Horsepeople weren’t used to quiet. Everything they did was loud and wild and- and- and just  _ not quiet _ . 

“Ok, ok, be cool!” War said as she rushed to make another set of martinis. She was this close to spilling all the gin all over the place. Tricky thing, butter fingers. Especially awful to have when you’re two minutes from meeting your little sibling’s first love.

“You’re gonna drop everything if you don’t-“ Famine was about chastise her, until he nearly dropped the entire skillet of chicken as he bumped into the kitchen counter as he hurried to plate the meals.

“Raven!”

“Carmine!”

“BOTH OF YOU. COMPOSURE.” Death groaned, pinching the closest thing to a nose bridge they had.

“What’s all the commotion this time?” Pestilence asked as he returned from giving his rats a very stern lecture about the dangers of underage drinking, or drinking alcohol as a rat.

“THEY’VE ARRIVED.” Pestilence seemed to be the only one  _ not  _ rack with nerves about the whole thing. In fact, he looked kind of excited. Death was glad at least he made some sense. “THEY’LL BE AT THE DOOR IN FIVE.. FOUR..” Death was practically directing their whole ordeal. Someone had too.

War tossed aside the cocktail shaker once she was done pouring, totally missing the sink and it got stuck behind the couch. No time, they’ll handle it later. Famine got the chicken plated and didn’t have the time to wash the pot and what kind of first impression was having dirty dishes in your sink when your guests got there? So he threw it out the window. Pestilence was already waiting by the front door while the other two rushed up beside him. Death stood behind them, fixing their hood and letting out a deep sigh. 

“THREE.. TWO..”

————

Anathema and Pollution parked outside a large luxury apartment complex just on the outskirts of London, right beside three modern motorcycles and a very, very old motorcycle that had a rat-shaped hood ornament. 

“Lead the way, rabbit.” Anathema said as she hopped off the bike and presented her hand for Pollution to take as if this was some gala and not an awkward family dinner. Their nose wrinkled just like a rabbit’s did whenever they smiled or got upset, and Anathema had gotten to see both sides of that cute little tick. She had been the cause of both. Pollution only smiled softly and took her hand. 

“You are such,” They kissed her knuckle sweetly. “A drama queen.”

“I’m a witch. We have a flare for the spectacular.” Anathema chuckled.

“It’s why we work so well together.” Pollution said as they lead her up the stairs to apartment 66B. They took a deep breath and muttered to themselves. “Alright, time to meet the family in three.. two..”

Suddenly the door opened wide before they could even reach for the knob. Standing before them was three primordial havoc bringers, all of which trying to play it much cooler than they actually were feeling. Death stood behind them, looking as they always did. Like a skeleton. But a kind of exasperated skeleton, in particular.

“Chalks! You made it just in time.” Famine said, a large, thankfully not sharpened, smile on his face. 

“Come in, both of you.” War said, trying her best to seem cool and collected as she led them inside.

Anathema was none the wiser to their weird behavior, but Pollution? Pollution immediately knew something was up. The smiles were suspicious to begin with.

“WELCOME, MISS DEVICE.” Death greeted the witch, nodding in acknowledgement.

“Chalky’s told us so much about you.” Wyn said.

“It’s very nice to meet all of you, well, properly anyways.” Anathema chuckled a little awkwardly. Maybe bringing up the failed Apocalypse right out the gate wasn’t the smartest move, but she did it anyway. “I get if it’s a little weird considering.. everything.”

“Oh, don’t worry about all that. Water under the bridge.” War slapped her back in a way that was supposed to be friendly, but came off way too strong. Had she hit even a little harder it would’ve definitely left a bruise. “Probably wouldn’t have tried to kill you for it, even if you weren’t dating Chalks.” That was.. reassuring? Hopefully?

Before Anathema could comment on her wording, Famine had sharply elbowed War in the ribs and cleared his throat. 

“Why don’t we sit and eat? I’m sure you both must be hungry.” He said as War rubbed her sore side.

“Sounds great, Rav.” Pollution said, shooting War a look that read ‘What was  _ that _ ?’. Her only response was mouthing ‘I panicked!’.

This was gonna be a long evening.

“The food smells delicious.” Anathema said as she caught a glimpse of the still-hot chicken marsala waiting for them at the dinner table. Pollution noticed it too, but blinked in confusion. 

“Hey, where’s the shredded beef?” They whispered to Famine. “I thought that’s what you were making?”

“We had a little..” He tried to not let it fully slip as they walked into the kitchen, kicking a few stray shards of glass underneath the fridge. “issue, with the oven. But it’s fine now.”

“Ok..?” Pollution had a feeling there was more to it than that, but the food was going to get cold.

————

“And so I told Chalky ‘don’t lick the swing set’.” 

Currently at the dinner table, miracled slightly bigger than usual to make room for the two extra guests in the house, Famine was telling a great story about one summer maybe five or so years back when he and Pollution had worked together on a the first coffee vending machine and while in the city it was debuting in, they had licked a public swing set. Sure it was a story that definitely had underlying dastardly implications as that machine only gave out watered down shitty coffee in one-use cups, but Anathema was laughing at least, so that was a good sign. Things were starting to be a little less tense.

“Hey, if I remember correctly you dared me to lick the swing set!” Pollution argued, pointing at him with their fork, a piece of chicken still on it. “I don’t just go around licking shit.”

“No, no, I specifically remember saying ‘Chalky, don’t lick the swing set.’ and you told me ‘Don’t tell me what to do, Raven.’ And then you licked the swing set.” Snickers came from Pestilence, while War belted out a hearty laugh. Death sat there, quietly amused. At least storytelling was going well.

“Sounds like you, that’s for sure.” Anathema chuckled as she playfully nudged Pollution’s shoulder with her own. They laughed in that embarrassed kind of way.

“And what about that time they were throwing abandoned bikes in a river at 2 am?” War chimed in, taking a bite of her chicken but talking through it like this was an anime. “Very hands-on job approach, Chalks.”

“They were just  _ there,  _ how couldn’t I? You act like you don’t take every opportunity to start a fight.”

“Yeah? Should I start one  _ now _ ?” War leaned over the table to playfully sneer at her fellow rider, to which Pollution returned the favor. “I can imagine the title of the video.  _ ‘Scrawny anime protagonist gets ass beat by Wendy’s mascot look alike’ _ .”

“Least you admit you look like her.”

“Least I can capitalize on me beating your ass.”

“No news van anymore, Carmine ‘Jobs are for Suckers’ Zuigiber.”

“I got a phone and like three, maybe four possible witnesses. I don’t need TMZ.”

“Settle down you two, not in front of the lady.” Pestilence said, motioning toward Anathema who kinda now wanted to see who would win. 

“SHE UNDERSTANDS WHAT DATING A HORSEPERSON ENTAILS.” Death said, poking at their plate. It wasn’t really a question or anything, but a statement of fact. They knew she knew, because of course they did. They knew everything, eventually. “A FIGHT WON’T SCARE HER OFF.”

“Sure hope it won’t. Fightings our specialty.” War said. “Unless you’re too chicken, Chalks.”

“I’d rather not lose a fight in front of my girlfriend.” That just got a laugh out of the redhead. “Besides, you all took the liberty of cleaning up, hate to mess the place.”

That got a total of five seconds of silence before they all laughed. I mean, really? Pollution, not make a mess? Like that would ever happen.

“So, Anathema, Chalks tells us you’re quite the witch.” Pestilence said, blinking, then realized how that sounded. “In the dark arts, rather.”

“Yes, I am. Old family trade.” She said “My ancestor was a prophet and a witch, her book got passed its way down through the family tree, kinda how I ended up involved in everything.”

“Amazing things humans can do with just a little bit of magic, don’t you think?” Famine said. “Carmine used to tell us about this one witch she knew- Morgana was it?”

“That’s right.” War nodded. “Old friend of mine.”

“Morgana Le Faye?” Anathema blinked in realization. “ _ The  _ Morgana? She was  _ real _ ?”

“Of course she was. A real pain in the ass, that’s for sure.” War chuckled, taking a swig of her martini. She had been the only one so far to get one. “But we got along just fine. Showed me some of her magic. We dated for a bit too.”

“That’s incredible. Occult scholars were never sure if she was just a legend.” 

“Oh, humanity will tell you all greats were legends then make you think they were being literal. Helen of Troy, Teuta, Blenda, all very real. I should know I slept with the three of them.” Anathema could’ve and honestly should’ve been taking notes.

“Wow.. Wait, if Helen of Troy was real, was Hippolyta real as well? I didn’t study much Greek Mythology but that name always stuck out.” She asked

“Sweetheart, you’re looking at her.” War finished her martini with one last slam back. “Stick around an area a little too long and suddenly you turn into local folklore.”

“Now you turn into the local cryptid.” Pollution said.

“You told me that was because you were caught raiding an Applebees dumpster because a raccoon fell in.” Anathema said, taking the wind out of their sails only to get a couple giggles in return. She still smirked, making Pollution blush a bit in embarrassment.

“They’re a fellow garbage brat, how could I leave them alone in their time of need?” They said. Anathema only chuckled and kissed their cheek. Their whole face turned bright pink on contact. 

“I know, I know. You’re secretly a sweetheart under all that muck.”

“Take that back.”

“Never.”

The other riders all laughed. A witch who knew how to play Pollution like a violin? How fun.

“Well, dinner was fantastic.” Anathema said “Chalky told me you were a great cook, Raven, but that blew me away.”

“You’re sweet, Anathema. Maybe you can rub some of that off on them.” Famine said as she got up to clean up her spot. Normally, the four would object. She’s a guest! But Anathema doesn’t take that shit. Pollution made sure to let them know in advance.

“They’re kind of a bastard.”

“Oh, I know. But I love them for it.” Anathema chuckled as she blew a kiss to her partner who practically melted in their chair from the gay. War, Famine, and Pestilence chuckled while Death only smirked. Probably. Hard to tell when you don’t really have a mouth. “Sorry to ask but..” The riders turned to look at Anathema who was scanning the room for- “where’s the trash can?”

Ah, yes, that. The location of which was still undiscovered.

Pollution looked to War for an answer. She looked to Famine, who looked to Pestilence, who looked to Death. Death only looked ahead with a hundred yard stare coming from the tiny blue pinpricks they called eyes. In the commotion, no one really remembered where they put the damn thing. Famine wasn’t totally sure he even picked it up. They were all considering if they should just miracle one up, but knows what would be in it. Again, their powers didn’t work exactly like angels or demons, it always came with a kind of catch. 

It was such a long awkward pause that Anathema was now slightly convinced they just didn’t have a normal trash can. She shouldn’t put it past them, because that was the case.

“Grim, please. Could you show Anathema where the trash can is?” Pollution coughed, giving them the same kind of pleading look you give when someone sees you caught in a lie. Death knew where it was. They had to. 

Death’s look back at them read ‘I’m having your martini  _ and  _ mine’. They did stand up from their spot at the table, which gave Pollution the biggest feeling of relief. It was so stupid, and they knew it, but they were also stupid and in love and didn’t want ‘throwing all trash out the window at passing cars’ to be the final straw for Miss Greenpeace. 

“OF COURSE, IT'S IN THE PANTRY.” They said. “FOLLOW ME.”

Anathema followed Death to the pantry where, low and behold, there was a small trash bin sitting nestled by a spice rack. 

“Thank you, I just didn’t want to leave the-“

“LISTEN UP, HUMAN.”

Anathema stood very, very still as the room seemed to freeze over. Death’s cloak the only thing moving, like a mirage of a fire swaying in the dark. Their shadow cast over Anathema, the only bits of light peeking out from the corners of the doorway and the blue of Death’s eyes.

“YOU HAVE IMPRESSED THE OTHERS, BUT KNOW THIS.” Death got close to Anathema, too close for comfort. “YOU ARE NO LESS MORTAL THAN ANY OTHER HUMAN JUST BECAUSE YOU WERE APART OF GOD’S GRAND SCHEME. YOU WILL DIE ONE DAY. THAT DAY CAN COME MUCH SOONER IF YOU CHOOSE TO HURT CHALKY IN ANYWAY.”

“..Hold on.” Anathema spoke up. Was that a bad choice? Maybe. “I would never hurt them. I love them.”

“AND IF ONE DAY YOU STOPPED LOVING THEM?”

“I won’t, will I? You know the future.”

“IRRELEVANT.”

“No, I won’t.” She shook her head. “I know one day I’ll have to die, I accept that. But until then I want to spend my life with Chalky. You can see it that I love them, can’t you?”

“I DO NOT SENSE LOVE. I AM NO ANGEL.”

“But you know I’ll stay with them until the end. Then why go through the trouble of trying to scare me?” Death looked down for less than a moment before looking back at Anathema.

“..BEING IMMORTAL IS NOT AN EASY BURDEN TO BEAR. CHALKY IS MUCH YOUNGER. THEY’RE THE LAST ONE OF US TO GET TO EXPERIENCE LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME. DESPITE MY APPEARANCES, I HAVE A HEART.”

“They did tell me you can be kind.”

“I DON’T WANT TO SEE THEM HURT. NOT NOW, NOT EVER. BUT I KNOW THINGS CAN'T STAY THIS WAY FOREVER.”

“I understand. Look, Grim,” Bold move, using their name. “I swear to you I’ll love them as long as my heart beats. They make me happy. I want to make them happy too.”

“SO.. DOES THAT MEAN YOU'RE SWEARING ON YOUR OWN GRAVE?”

Did.. Did Death just make a pun? Now? Yes. And the sheer awkwardness of the situation couldn’t stop Anathema from snorting. 

“Yes it does. And on the graves of the whole Device family. Agnes Nutter’s too, if it means anything.” Anathema nodded.

“GOOD. GLAD WE HAD THIS TALK.”

“Think it was more of a threatening situation with not a lot of intimidation.”

“WOULD YOU RATHER I BE INTIMIDATING?” Death said in a way that, if you looked at it a certain way, could be seen as playful.

“No, not particularly.” Anathema said, walking out of the pantry with them as though that didn’t just happen.

“Sooo.. what were you guys talking about?” Pollution asked, walking back from the living room window, a now-empty plate in hand.

“Oh nothing.” Anathema said as she kissed the side of their mouth. “You had a little sauce there.”

“Ana, that’s so gay.” They blushed, placing their forehead against hers. 

“You’re so gay.” 

Death had a good feeling about this one. 

———

“Well?” 

Pollution and Anathema sat together on Anathema’s couch after leaving the apartment, Pollution in her lap of course. They currently had the phone on speaker, on call with the others.

“Do you like her?” Pollution asked as Anathema tried her best to stay quiet. The night had gone very well, but Anathema just wanted a  _ little  _ reassurance after the whole threatening session with Death.

The other four were sitting around the coffee table in the living room. They looked at each other for a second. Then there was a collective nod as War picked up the phone, leaning onto the table with her head in one hand.

“Of course we did. Now the real question-“ She said, only to be cut off by Famine.

“Did she like us?”

Pollution turned to their girlfriend, who was barely holding back a giggle as she nodded. The sight of which only made them grin.

“She loved you guys.” They said. The two of them heard the group sigh of relief on the other line.

“Oh thank fuck.” Famine said.

“We were worried we were gonna fuck it up.” War said.

“You mean  _ you  _ were worried, Carmine.” Pestilence poked.

“Watch it, Wyn. I’m not afraid to fight an old man.”

“Understood.”

“Hey Chalks, so when you come back we’ll launch that trash bin out the window, ok?” War’s words made Pollution’s eyes go wide as Anathema gave them ‘The Eye’ as she liked to put it. Like they could pull one over on her.

“We’ll talk about it later gotta go bye!” Pollution quickly hung up as Anathema started to laugh, slinging her arms around their neck.

“I had a feeling something fishy was going on in there.” She joked. “You’d never use a trash can in your own home.”

“I did it for you.” Pollution said as they wrapped their arms around her waist.

“Aw, rabbit..” Anathema kissed their nose. “How did I end up with the sweetest apocalyptic force on the face of the Earth?”

“By being the most stubborn and stunning witch I had ever met.” 

The two of them spent the rest of the night cooing sweet nothings to each other, wrapped in each other’s arms. 

It was a perfect end to a pretty great day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And boom short and sweet story, y’all. Hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> If you want, follow me @BeezandBitches on tumblr, I post mini sneak peaks of whatever it is i’m working on. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and have a lovely day!


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